


The Thing About Pears in Agadoo

by goingtothetardis, SelenaTerna



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Black Lace - Agadoo, Collaboration, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, Kinda cracky but mostly silly, Pears, Romance, Sentient fruit/kitchen applicances, We said it was silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 01:11:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10583298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goingtothetardis/pseuds/goingtothetardis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelenaTerna/pseuds/SelenaTerna
Summary: The Doctor takes Rose to Black Lace for a special concert, and there's a situation with a pear. Becauseof coursethere is.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The brain twins have joined forces, and, despite the complications living on opposite sides of the world (and hemispheres), created a joint work of Doctor/Rose fanfic. 
> 
> We'd apologize for the silliness, but we're not really sorry. ;)
> 
> This was a lot of fun to write, and for a first time (and hopefully not the last) collab fic, we think it went pretty well. 
> 
> Enjoy!!
> 
>  **WATCH THIS VIDEO:** [The inspiration for this fic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=POv-3yIPSWc)

“We’re almost there, Rose! Hang on to something! Things are going to get a bit bumpy!”

“So, same as usual, then?” Rose laughed and grabbed onto the console.

“Oi!” The Doctor looked offended. “What are you saying?”

“Nothing.” Her smirk was all the answer the Doctor needed.

“Humph. I don’t know if you deserve your surprise, now.” 

Rose shuffled sideways to the Doctor, holding on to the console, and rested her chin on his shoulder, looking up at him with wide eyes she knew he could never resist. “Oh, but I think I do, Doctor.” She slid an arm through his and bumped him with her hip. 

He sighed. “Weeeellllll….”

“Please, Doctor? You’ve been going on an’ on about this place for days, and really– you'd be failing in your job as the best travel guide in the universe.” She paused, grinning up at him with her trademark tongue in teeth grin. “And you can’t be anything but the best travel guide, yeah? Would be a shame for someone else to step into that position.”

“I s’pose,” he grumbled, unconsciously tugging her closer and settling his arm about her shoulders. “Right, then! Prepare to be dazzled, Rose Tyler, for we are about to land on–” and he paused for dramatic effect– “Black Lace.”

As he flicked levers around the console to send them out of the Vortex, Rose snorted. “You’re kidding, right? A planet called Black Lace?” Then she bit her bottom lip and peered up at the Doctor, cheeks slightly flushed. “So, ‘s this a planet specializing in lingerie?”

“Of course not! What in the world gave you _that_ idea?” The Doctor looked genuinely baffled. 

“Uhm… ‘S called Black Lace, Doctor. _Black Lace_. Y’know,” she grinned devilishly, “the material of the knickers I’m wearing right now.”

“Oh,” he squeaked, “I hadn’t thought about that. Not your knickers!” he added hastily, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “I mean I hadn’t thought about the, er, lingerial implications. Not that there’s anything wrong with your knickers. But I definitely wasn’t thinking about them. Not thinking about your knickers at all. Definitely not.”

“I doth thinks thou protests too much,” Rose said, pressing her face into his side to hold off what felt like, judging by the way her body shook beside his, a round of giggles.

“Misquoting Shakespeare doesn’t really make your point, Rose,” he grumbled, his cheeks still stained with red. 

Rose opened her mouth to tease him further, but at that moment, the TARDIS landed with an almighty thud that sent them both sprawling. The Doctor found himself on the floor with an armful of Rose Tyler, and tried very hard not to think about the rather alluring knickers she was apparently wearing.

Rose jumped up and reached down to give the Doctor a hand. He grabbed it and heaved himself up with exaggerated flair, desperate to move their conversation into safer territory. Taking Rose’s hand, he pulled her down the ramp and out the door, smiling happily at the raucous enthusiasm of the bustling capital.

The city looked, to be perfectly honest, like an outdated, hideously printed Hawaiian shirt– one so monstrous that it had been outlawed on five different planets for visual pollution and crimes against fashion and good taste. The city was outlandishly coloured, ridiculously mismatched and every building was a different shape and colour to the next.

“Woah!” Rose exclaimed, turning her head in every direction to take in the sights and outlandish atmosphere of the city. “Is it always like this?”

“Yep!” He beamed, popping the ‘p’. “Rose, welcome to Agadoo, mighty capital of the lovely Black Lace.”

“‘Scuse me?” She stared. “Did you just say _Agadoo_? Like, that stupid song from the 80’s?”

“The one and only!” He beamed, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets.

“So that’s why everyone’s dressed like a fashion crime?”

“Yep!” 

Rose looked around a few more moments before grabbing the Doctor’s hand and pulling him back inside the TARDIS. 

“What? Rose! We’re supposed to go _out_ of the TARDIS to explore the city,” the Doctor said, crinkling his forehead in confusion as Rose led him confidently out of the console room.

“Know that, yeah,” she answered. “But I’m wearing jeans and a hoodie, and you’re wearing brown, which I don’t even think is a color that exists on Black Lace.” She stopped in front of a familiar door and flung it open. “Which is why we’re gonna change!” 

Rose strode over to a rack full of atrocious Hawaiian shirts and other horrifying items, a rack he _knew_ he’d hidden in a dark corner of the room a few incarnations ago, and plucked a garish aqua shirt decorated with pink flamingos and palm trees off the rack. She turned to the Doctor with a smirk, waving the shirt at him.

“I beg your pardon! What’s wrong with my pinstripes? Don’t you like them anymore?” He looked at her forlornly. “Why don’t you like my pinstripes, Rose?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “I _do_ like ‘em, Doctor.”

He gazed despondently at her. “Then why, Rose? _Why?_

She sighed impatiently. “Doctor, we’re in the capital city Agadoo, on the planet Black Lace. Don’t you think we should make an effort to blend in a little?”

The Doctor sniffed petulantly. “Pinstripes’ll fit in anywhere!”

“Doctor, there are people wearing fluro shirts and leather trousers outside! To say nothing of the giant fruits wandering around!” She rolled her eyes. “It won’t kill you to make an effort not to stick out!”

“Weelllllll….”

“Oh come on, Doctor,” she wheedled, burrowing under his arm and blinking up at him. “Just this once.”

“Oh, al _right_ ,” he grumbled. “Just this once. And just my shirt!”

“Not the trousers? Oh come on, they’re not that different to yours!” Seeing his stubborn expression she rolled her eyes. “Fine, just the shirt, then.” Under her breath, she grumbled, “If you’re not gonna make a move, least you could do is let me appreciate the view in the leather trousers.”

“Ahem.” The Doctor cleared his throat, cheeks pink, trying to pretend he hadn’t heard. “The shirt?”

Rose passed the Doctor the shirt in her hand, grinning when he held it in front of him with an expression on his face resembling the one he’d made when he’d tried that repulsive yak-flavoured ice cream on Plamoria. He shuddered in remembrance of the taste.

“ _This?_ You want me to wear _this_ , Rose? Think of my manly dignity!”

Rose smirked and gestured to the shirt.

“I’m a Time Lord, Rose! Time Lords are a dignified, solemn species, and you want me to wear something that vaguely resembles a diseased fern?”

‘’S just a Hawaiian shirt, Doctor,” she sighed impatiently. “Just put it _on_ , already and stop being such a baby.”

With a great deal of huffing and sighing, he doffed his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, not missing the way Rose’s eyes glazed over at the action, her face falling slack. Down to his vest and preening under Rose’s obvious admiration of is rather attractive physique, he pulled the new shirt on and began doing the buttons. 

Finally, he tucked the shirt into his trousers and walked to the giant mirror on the other side of the room. “Rose, you can’t be serious! This shirt is appalling!” He tugged unhappily at the shirt. “It’s very undignified.”

“Oh, come off it, Doctor. You look like a local, for once.” Rose sidled up to him and gave him an appraising look, reaching up to ruffle his hair in a way that was very much _not _distracting.__

At all. 

She pulled her hand back, eyes dropping to his feet. “Hmm, you know, I bet the TARDIS has some matching trainers.”

A soft noise behind her caught her attention, and she laughed. “Oh, look! I think the TARDIS approves of your new outfit.” Watching in the mirror, the Doctor looked on, horrified, as Rose grabbed some new, light pink trainers, conveniently in his size, from the floor. 

“Now, you put these on, and I’m gonna go get ready.” And with that, she flounced off to some unknown corner of the wardrobe room, leaving the Doctor wondering why he’d ever thought this was a good idea.

* * *

Endless minutes later, the Doctor perked up when Rose skipped back into view. Jaw dropping, he couldn’t help but appreciate Rose’s dedication to the cause. 

The TARDIS had given her a matching pair of trainers in hot pink. She’d also found some ghastly leggings, neon green with pineapples, and had decided to wear a short – _very, very short_ – yellow leather skirt with a fitted Hawaiian print blouse of her own. Her hair had been teased and dosed with copious amounts of hairspray, and her eyelids had been decorated with a rainbow of colors, her makeup much more dramatic than usual.

“Well, you’ve gone local,” the Doctor said, waggling his eyebrows in approval. “You’ll fit right in.”

“I know.” Rose grinned, clearly pleased with herself, and skipped to the Doctor’s side. “Now, time to mingle?”

“I think so,” he grinned, holding out his arm. “Shall we?”

“Yep!” She put her arm through his, and they left the wardrobe room. 

“If we hurry, we should just make the next concert!” he beamed.

“Wait, concert?” She peered up at him. “What concert?”

He grinned. “We’re in Agadoo, Rose, on the planet Black Lace. What d’you think it is?”

“You mean they’re playin’ Agadoo?” She laughed. “You’re kiddin’ me!”

“Nope! It’s the law- it’s played every hour, on the hour. Enormous fine if they don’t.”

Rose giggled. “So what you’re tellin’ me is that we came all the way to this planet to see Agadoo live in concert?”

He shrugged sheepishly. “Maybe.”

“That’s fantastic!” She crowed. “Let’s go!”

“Brilliant!” _Allons-y_ , Rose Tyler!”

* * *

Along the way to the outdoor Tutti a la Frutti Auditorium, the Doctor watched Rose take in the sights with obvious delight. The entrance to the auditorium was in the shape of a giant pineapple, and hands clasped, they hurried inside with throngs of others. 

There were seats along the edges of the auditorium, but the overwhelming majority of attendees merged on the center floor in one big dance party. Predictably, Rose took the lead and pulled the Doctor to the front, right by the edge of the stage. 

The band started playing Agadoo, and Rose jumped up and down with glee. The Doctor couldn’t help but smile at her ecstatic grin as she started to sing along.

“ _Aaaaaaaaga doo doo doo, push pineapple shake the tree, Agadoo doo doo, push pineapple grind coffee_ ,” she sang, her smile a mile wide. Unable to help himself, the Doctor sang along with her, beaming as she laughed gleefully.

Caught up in the moment, he allowed time to disappear as they simply danced, sang, and partied with the locals. 

A few songs later, Rose yelled that she needed a drink, so with his hand on her back, the Doctor guided her to the edge of the auditorium where they found drinks and vendors selling concert related apparel and other goods. 

“Doctor!” Rose shouted, forgetting she didn’t need to yell to be heard anymore. “Shirts!”

The Doctor eyed her suspiciously. “Yes, Rose. They’re selling shirts. What of it?”

Need for a drink forgotten, Rose made a beeline for the shirts and grabbed two, shoving a handful of coins at the vendor. Returning to his side, she handed him a red shirt. “For you,” she said.

Cautiously, as though he thought she might be handing him a dirty nappy, the Doctor reached for the shirt. His face lit up as soon as he saw... “Bananas!” he cried in delight, all suspicion gone. “Look Rose, _bananas!_ This shirt is artistically astute! Endearingly en-point! Seriously slick!”

Rose held out her own shirt for his inspection, a bright blue shirt with a pear. “Alrigh’ Doctor, if you don’t want to wear that shirt anymore,” she gestured to his Hawaiian shirt, “why don’t you put this one on instead.” Without warning, unbuttoned her own shirt and shrugged it off her shoulders, dumping it carelessly on a nearby table. 

He squeaked, blushing heavily and turned to face the wall.

“I’m wearing a cami, you daft idiot,” Rose laughed. 

When he turned around, Rose had pulled on her shirt and tucked it neatly inside her skirt. 

“You know, Rose. Pears are untrustworthy fruits,” he said, eyeing her shirt. 

Rose crossed her arms across her chest, covering part of the pear. “I’m wearing the pear.” Glaring at him, she muttered under her breath. “Untrustworthy fruit, my arse.”

“Oi! I tolerate you eating pears on the TARDIS, don’t I? I just think _wearing_ a pear is taking things to an unnecessary level of pear appreciation. And I really–” Rose shut him up with her hand across his mouth. 

“Just change your bloody shirt, Doctor.” Rose poked him in the chest with her finger and rolled her eyes. 

“Oh, alright,” he muttered, and discarded his Hawaiian shirt with the same carelessness as Rose. He pulled on the red shirt over his vest and tucked it into his trousers. 

“There! Better?” he asked Rose.

“Well, I did quite like the flamingos, but, well… Bananas.” She winked at him, laced her fingers with his, and after buying a drink, pulled the Doctor back to the auditorium. 

By the time they returned to the dance floor, the band had finished their set, and most of the crowd was shuffling out of the auditorium. The Doctor pulled Rose toward the stage and joined the large group of screaming fruits and humanoids hoping to meet the stars of the show. 

After storing their instruments, the banana, pear, and pineapple hopped down from the stage with the lead singers to mingle with the remaining crowd. Rose matched the enthusiasm of the other fans, and the Doctor looked on in amusement. 

After a while, however, the Doctor, with his very impressive senses, noticed something alarming. 

_Very_ alarming.

“Rose, you’re wearing a _pear_!” he exclaimed in alarm.

She rolled her eyes. “I can see that, Doctor.”

“But you’re wearing a pear, and that pear over there has been staring at you for the past ten minutes!” He scowled. “Nothing good can come of wearing pears.” 

“Doctor,” she sighed. “I don’t care if he’s looking at me– I promise you, ‘m not gonna take up with a pear.” She made a face. “Can you imagine what mum’d say?”

The Doctor shuddered and turned away from the leering pear. “Blimey. There’d be an interplanetary war before you could say ‘Bob’.” He frowned. “But that’s not the point! I don’t like the way he’s looking at you! All leer-y and sleazy and... pear-y.”

She bit her lip, trying to hold back a snort. “Pear-y? That’s a bad thing then, is it?”

“Yes!” He crossed his arms and scowled. “It’s the height of untrustworthiness, being pear-y.”

“Did someone say pear?”

The Doctor scowled more deeply. It seemed that the pear had snuck over as he was discussing the evils of...of … _pearishness_ with Rose. And now he was trying to chat her up! The _nerve_ some people!

Well, some _fruits_.

The pear took off his sunglasses and waggled his eyebrows at Rose. “Couldn’t help but notice you’re wearing a picture of me.” He sidled up to her and slipped his arm about her shoulders. “How’s about we get to know each other and make a little fruit salad?”

Rose stared at him. “Are you bloody serious, mate?”

The pear looked offended. “What?”

The Doctor couldn’t keep silent any longer. “What d’you mean, _what?_ You’ve been leering at Rose for _ages_ , and now you’ve just waltzed over here with your insinuations and pear-like behaviour and your unwanted attention, and all you can say is _what_?”

Rose put her hand on his arm. “Calm down, Doctor, ‘s fine.”

The Doctor squawked in outrage, his blood boiling. “Fine? It is _not_ fine, Rose! This… this prattish pear is forcing unwanted attentions on you and I want him _removed!_ Immediately!” He looked about for concert security and waved the giant coffee grinders over. 

“Is there a problem here?” the grinder asked, waving a handle menacingly.

“Yes!” The Doctor exclaimed. “There is a problem here. Him!” He pointed at the scowling pear. “He’s the problem! He’s forced his unwanted attentions on my… on Rose and made lewd insinuations and I want him removed!. He’s a bad seed! Rotten to the core!” He scowled. “He should be arrested and _thrown out of the city_ like the rotten fruit he is!”

Rose coughed madly, choking back her giggles, and tried to calm him. “Don’t worry Doctor, he didn’t hurt me, s’fine. Let’s just let it go and move on.”

“No.” The Doctor folded his arms. “It’s not fine, and he has to go.’

The coffee grinder sighed. “Did this fruit make lewd suggestions, madam?”

Rose flushed. “I… well, he just said something about making fruit salad together.”

“Well, I never!” The coffee grinder scowled at the pear. “The nerve! Honestly, young people these days, saying such a thing! Especially a lead member of the band! Children look up to you, you know. You’re supposed to set an example!” He shook his handle at the pear. “Now, apologise to the young lady!”

The pear flushed. “I… alright, I’m sorry.”

“Bit late for that,” the Doctor scoffed.

“He’s right,” the coffee grinder said sternly. “That kind of behaviour is unacceptable, and I’m afraid you’re going to have to leave. Your place in the band will be in jeopardy once we report this to the authorities!”

The pear sighed heavily and shuffled off, head bowed, the two coffee grinders walking behind him.

Rose shook her head. “That was a bit much, Doctor.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he sulked. “That pear was acting entirely inappropriately, and I won’t have it.”

Rose grinned a little. “Bothered you, did it? Seeing someone else pay attention to me that way?”

“I… no, that’s not it, Rose! I… oh, come here,” he sighed, opening his arms to her instead of answering, and she went willingly, snuggling into his chest. Moments later, however, he pushed her away.

“Rose, you’ll have to take your shirt off.”

“Beg your pardon?” She asked, eyes wide and arms crossed in indignation. 

“I want to hug you and you’re wearing a pear, and it just makes me think of Mr. Pear and his wanton pearishness.” He pouted. “You need to take it off so I can hug you.”

She cocked an eyebrow and smirked at him. “So you’re saying that you’d be more comfortable hugging me shirtless, is that it?”

His eyes bulged and his cheeks grew hot. “I- No! Of course not! I… I just meant that you should put on your other shirt.” He tried very hard to dispel the image of a shirtless Rose from his mind. 

He failed.

Miserably.

“I left it back there,” she said, pointing to the vendor. “Guess you’ll just have to put up with the pear until we get back to the TARDIS.”

“Absolutely not, Rose. I’ll not have that shirt on my magnificent time ship. In fact, from this point forward, I officially ban all pears from the TARDIS.”

Rose stared at him for several long moments, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “You’re bannin’ _all_ pears, jus’ because _one_ pear hit on me?”

The Doctor pulled on his ear. “Er… yes?”

Rose smiled, her eyes dancing with amusement, and in one smooth motion, peeled the shirt off and chucked it in a bin. 

“Fair enough,” she said, and without waiting for the Doctor, walked out of the auditorium. 

The Doctor stood still, unable to keep himself from watching the sway of Rose’s hips as she sauntered away, blessedly still clothed a barely there white camisole. He swallowed heavily when he spotted tantalizing black lace bra straps peeking out from underneath. Pulled from his thoughts when Rose stopped, turned, and called his name with a knowing smirk on her face. 

_Blimey._

He jogged to catch up, and together they walked back to the TARDIS. 

“You don’t want to stay longer?” he asked Rose. 

Rose, unlocking the door, turned to the Doctor. “Nope!”

“Oh. Didn’t you like it?” 

Rose strode up the ramp and leaned against the console, picking nonchalantly at her nails. “Oh, it was brilliant, Doctor.” She wiped an invisible piece of lint off her skirt. “Thanks for bringing me here. Agadoo doo doo…” She broke into momentary song. 

The Doctor felt like something wasn't quite right. “Rose… is everything okay?”

For a moment, she didn’t reply and stared at the console. Then with a deep breath, she slowly lifted her head and looked at him with eyes heavy with intent. He gasped and swallowed heavily.

“Doctor, why does it bother you so much when other people make a move on me?” she asked.

He stopped breathing. 

“‘Cause it shouldn’t matter, yeah?” She continued without giving him time to answer. “I don’t belong to anyone. It’s _my_ job to get offended if someone hits on me. Not yours.” She took a step closer, then another, without breaking his gaze. 

“Ehm…” 

Rose stood in front of him, now, eyes dark, and she licked her lips. His eyes dropped to follow her tongue, before looking back up. She grinned, like the cat who got the canary. “I’ve come to the conclusion that it bothers you so much because you’re jealous.”

The Doctor spluttered and raised a finger to explain to Rose how very much _not_ jealous he was. 

But she interrupted before he got a chance to speak. “And that’s good,” Rose stepped even closer and placed her hand on his chest, “because I get jealous too, when everyone flirts with you.”

“Y– Yeah?” he stuttered, barely able to process coherent thought, still in a state of disbelief at Rose’s words. He tried to call himself and very deliberately forced himself to remember all of the reasons why this was a Very Bad Idea.

Very bad. 

No matter how tempting.

“I do.” She chewed on her lower lip and took a deep breath, as if making a final decision about something. “An’ you know what I want to do when I get jealous like that?”

The Doctor’s respiratory bypass kicked in. “What’s that?” he asked, voice unsteady, even as kicked himself for playing along. 

He really should stop this, _now_ , while he had the chance. 

He didn't.

“I want to show the universe you’re _mine_.” Rose cupped the back of his head, threading her fingers through his hair, and gently pulled his head down to capture his lips with hers. 

_Sod it._

With a groan, the Doctor gave up all the reasons he _should_ hold back, and pulling Rose flush against him, returned her kiss with equal fervor. 

The tiny part of his mind that wasn't preoccupied with kissing Rose was suddenly very grateful for undignified clothes and lecherous fruits. 

It still wasn't enough to lift his pear ban, though.

**Author's Note:**

> Find us both on tumblr at goingtothetardis and countessselena!


End file.
